Tbh, the male gaze in this series is fucking atrocious. It’s not just about the surface work like, now we see men getting full frontal. But women are not just different fantasies serve on your platter: your beauty-pageant-queen, cheerleading, ice-princess, goth-dream-pixie-girl, tomboy-like females. They’re teenage girls for fuck’s sake.
In terms of cast, it has to be said that Gary Oldman looks nothing like Herman Mankiewicz. The olde visuals seem to be the main reason to watch this film, and its this smokey, shadowy, cigarette-burnt, ’40s aesthetic that’s the film’s only positive. The fact that a film about a writer (which intermittently includes script elements) isn’t particularly well written is ironic to say the least. This is basically another love letter to Hollywood’s “great” past like Quentin Tarantino‘s similarly critically overrated shite-fest OUATIH. It's a black and white ode to a period of time that only a select few give a toss about; it’s made for film students, cinephiles, and pompous critics.
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